This story is the bane of my existence and has been haunting me for forever. I've decided that I can't really go on very much further, but I had to finish this. It's a little sudden, to say the least, but I want to finish it as soon as possible, so I hope you enjoy the final chapter!
Mary Margaret had gone to class the next day after her initial sickness had been cleared, all except for her morning sickness. It took a lot out of her, but she made it through the day without any unwarranted trips to the bathroom, a feat she felt a tinge of pride over.
She had called Regina earlier that night to spread the good news. She was going to tell everyone else when it came up, but wanted to keep to herself as much as possible, especially with the gossip mill in town running faster than ever, that will no doubt spread the news like a wildfire in a drought.
When she got home, David was at the stove cooking her some soup while she was instructed to sit on the couch under blankets.
When he came over with a steaming hot bowl of chicken noodle soup, she was reluctant to his coddling. He grabbed her feet from under the blankets and immediately started to rub them. She jumped back and stood up.
"Please don't coddle me. I don't want to be babied. I'm perfectly fine with cooking my own dinner and taking it easy when I say I want to. I don't want it from anyone else. If I do, I will let you know," Mary Margaret ranted. David was still kneeling in front of the couch and hiding his shock at her sudden outburst well.
"Of course. Give me the word and I'll do or won't do anything." She smiled tenderly.
"Thank you. You know I'll do that for you too, right?" David nodded.
"I don't have any reason to be babied, I'm not pregnant." She giggled and knelt down in front of him, holding his face in her palm, until he urged her bowl of soup to her.
The rest of the night she laid in David's lap on the couch. She has missed his warmth, the indescribable scent that he leaves faintly on her clothes once she leaves his arms, everything. It didn't matter if she saw him only this morning, she missed him.
Slowly but surely, she began to drift off against his chest. He carried her to her bed, soaking up the feeling of having her in his arms, breathing lightly and faintly smiling in her sleep. This was the life he dreamed of when he eyed her fro the diner every morning. Every weekday, 7:15, and look where it got me, he thought fondly.
He set her down on the bed and pulled the covers over her and laid down beside her, planting a small kiss on her forehead before falling asleep himself.
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Her morning sickness was the doom awaiting her before school, as well as David, her saviour, with aspirin and pancakes. She tenderly thanked him before sprinting out the door to her car.
She got to class five minutes late, but the students didn't bat an eye.
She stayed late after the final bell rang to help ready the gymnasium for the middle school dance. She helped hang up streamers, blow up balloons, and when all was done, she went back to her classroom to finish work, when David showed up with a sandwich packed into a Tupperware container, flashing his charming grin.
"Evening, Miss Blanchard," he whispered coyly.
"What did I do to deserve you, Mr. Nolan," she swooned. He laughed and bent over her desk to kiss her. He walked around her desk instead of pulling up a chair and kneeled in front of her, pulling her by her shirt cropped hair to his waiting lips.
"Mmm, Mr. Nolan, how scandalous," she joked.
"Does your door lock?" She nodded while biting her lip to keep a moan at bay. He got up off the ground and locked her door while drawing the blinds over the windows.
"Now, we have some privacy," he murmured, now leaning over her desk flirtatiously.
"Why, yes, we do." She got up from her chair and over to where David was standing, waiting for her, and lifted her up onto her desk. She whimpered softly in anticipation. He tilted her head and nipped at her neck, as she fumbled with the buttons on his shirt. He painted heavily under her ear and held her hips steady.
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Mary Margaret was packing the last of her things before she left for maternity leave, gripping the picture of their growing baby girl in her hands. She couldn't stop the grin that consumed her face whenever she looked at he snapshot of the life she held responsibility for.
In an unspoken response, little Emma kicked her hard, and Mary Margaret couldn't help but giggle, while silently scolding her as she packed the rest of her things while the children ran to their buses.
As if on cue, David was knocking on the door, swinging his keys on his finger.
"Ready, MM?"
"Yeah, I'm ready," she muttered, assuring herself more than David. He wrapped his arms around her waist and kissed her cheek, while leading her out to his truck.
It's funny how things change, how one small kink in fate's delicious humour can lead you to extreme circumstances. She thought back to the last year of her life, how she found what she wanted and gained the confidence to get it, how she found herself six months pregnant with a beautiful little girl who have them both wrapped around her growing little finger already, and how she found a piece of herself within David, a piece that took her an unreasonably absurd amount of time to find. She was willing to give anything for him, and he was as well. They both found themselves within the other, Mary her confidence, and David, his passion.
David glanced to her from across the seat, and she smiled lightly at him, hugging the baby inside her with as much strength and delicate touch she could.